The Slumbering Queen
by LadyCassie
Summary: For thousands of years, I have laid in slumber. For thousands of years, I have been awaiting the day where I might take back what has always been mine. I know that one day, I will awaken. One day, I shall take back all that has been taken from me, but until that day, I sleep, and dream, of days long since past, and days where we might be together again.
1. Chapter 1

_**I do not own Game of Thrones**_

 _ **"Once, long ago, before the age of Winter began, the first men lived side by side with the Children of the Forest, worshipping the Gods together as one. My brother and I were born during a great time of peace, born under a sacred Wirewood Heart tree, we came into the world together. With hair the same shade of red as the leaves of the Heart tree, and skin just as pale as the tree bark, we were seen as a gift from the gods. We knew nothing but happiness, but soon, our time of peace came to end.**_

 _ **When war raged against the land, and when the sacred Wirewood Heart tree's begun to be defiled by men from the South, the Children stole my brother. They took something from me that day, something I vowed I would take back, no matter the price I had to pay.**_

 _ **For thousands of years, I have laid in slumber. For thousands of years, I have been awaiting the day where I might take back what has always been mine. I know that one day, I will awaken. One day, I shall take back all that has been taken from me, but until that day, I sleep, and dream, of days long since past, and days where we might be together again."**_

* * *

Encased in clear ice, her red hair floats suspended around her, hands resting by her side, she stands suspended in the ice, a giant Direwolf lays encircling her, the beast bigger then the woman she protects. They look peaceful in their frozen slumber, but there is something deadly about the sleeping beauty and wolf who guards her.

Little is known about the Lady, even less about how she came to be hidden in the tunnels beneath Winterfell, but one thing is known, and that is that she a Stark. There is a tale which has been passed down through the generations, that one day, the Great Winter Lady will awaken, that she will seek out something which was taken from her. What exactly it was which was stolen has become lost with time, and many believe that the Lady is dead, but Jon believes.

He believes in the words his Father speaks to him as they stand together in the candlelight, gazing upon the frozen beauty. "She'll awaken one day, Jon, and maybe we shall be here to see it, and maybe we won't, but you should know this tale, for although you don't have my name, you have my blood and you will always be my son."

Jon turns at those words because even a boy can understand what his Father is telling him. Jon will always be a bastard, will never be a Stark, but he will always be the son of Ned Stark, no matter what anyone else might say, and somehow that's enough for Jon.

"When I was still but a boy, my own Father brought me down here." Ned began, and Jon turned to face the frozen Lady once more. "He told me how his Father and all those who have come before came to this place, to share with their children the secret House Stark guards." From there on, Ned told Jon all he knew of the Great Winter Lady, of how she has been forgotten throughout time, but the North remembers, and although her story is lost, House Stark still keeps its vow. "What are the Stark words?"

"Winter is coming," Jon answered, noticing his Father said House Starks words and not our words.

"Yes," Ned said while nodding. "Its said that when she awakens, a Winter the likes of which have not been since in Night King shall fall across the land." The Night King, a legend which only lived on in the North. Some thought him only a myth, but still, even today children all across the North have his name whispered to them as they fall to sleep. "I believe that day shall come, and I pray to the old Gods, that we survive."

With those words, the two stood in silence, only the dripping water and the sound of their breathing echoing the tunnels. After a time they left, but Jon often found himself coming back to gaze upon the sleeping beauty. He didn't have a Mother, and Lady Catelyn wished him gone, so it was here he often found his comfort, speaking to Lady of his worries, of his sorrow, of his pain.

When it came time for him to leave and join the Night's Watch, Jon found himself once more standing before the Sleeping Lady, wishing to say farewell to her, for although he might not have played any part in her life, she had certainly and would always be apart of his.

"I know you probably won't even notice I'm gone, but I still wanted to come and say farewell." He placed his gloved hand on the ice. "With Father going South, and myself to the Wall, I doubt you'll have many visitors." Robb rarely if ever ventured down, had said something chilled him whenever he gazed upon the Lady.

Once, Jon had found his half-brother standing here, standing as he was now, his bare hand had been pressed against the ice, his eyes glazed over as if unseeing, and he'd been whispering words to low for Jon to hear, but whatever he'd whispered had caused the ice to crack.

When later asked, Robb wouldn't remember any of it, wouldn't even know how he'd come to be in the tunnel which housed the Lady, far away from the Starks who were long since passed. They'd never know what happened to Robb that night, but Lady Catelyn made sure that he could never get there again, posting guards at the entrance, least Robb wonder down in the night again. She'd have had the whole tunnel closed off if she had her way, but Ned would never allow such a thing.

"Father says you have a connection to the Gods, that you'll live again because they will it, so if you can hear me," He took a breath, eyes focusing to see her more clearly through the ice. "Save my brother. Bran, he's just a boy, hasn't," He paused as he heard the sound of footsteps growing closer.

"It is good that you ask her to watch over Bran, I have already prayed to the Gods, but I too would ask her also to watch over him," Benjen said as he came to stand beside him, and Jon slowly lowered his hand. "You know, I remember when I was a boy, I too spent much of my time here." Benjen then pressed his hand to the ice, wiping away the frost to see her better. "She truly is the most beautiful woman to exist."

Jon didn't doubt him, he didn't think he'd ever find someone who held the same kind of beauty as the Lady before him, didn't even want to try.

"We are lucky men to have gazed upon someone so beautiful, not many men can say the same," Benjen said, and then slowly his hand followed the crack in the ice, his eyes intense as they took in the new detail. "How?"

"Robb." Jon offered, not knowing that Benjen hadn't actully been looking for him to answer. "He was sleepwalking, doesn't remember what he did, but I found him here, speaking to her, and at his touch, the ice began to break,"

"You pulled him away?"

"I did."

Benjen nodded, silent as he continued to stare at the ice before he turned and said, "We'd best leave, the King's party waits for no man, least of all us."

He could tell that his uncle wanted to say more on the subject, and later when Benjen went missing, he wished even more that he'd took the time to ask his thoughts. His Father is dead, Ayra lost to the South, Bran, and Rickon murdered by one they trust, and Robb, is all Jon has left in the world until a raven comes carrying the news that he is now alone.

* * *

 _ **The times of awakening grows near.**_

 _ **The dead walk the land.**_

 _ **The king, long thought gone has risen again.**_

 _ **His awakening shall awaken another, long lost in slumber.**_

* * *

"What are you saying, Bran?" Arya asks, trying to understand the words her brother had been telling her. It doesn't make sense, doesn't add up. The fact that Bran knows things, knows things he can't possibly know means that she trusts in what he says, but this makes no sense what so ever.

She was there when he told Jon of his true Mother and Father, and can believe that to be true, but this can't possibly be real. Its a myth, something passed down from generation to generation.

"It's as real as the Night King, and whether you believe it or not, it won't be dragon fire that will save us, it's her," Bran says, his eyes blankly staring at Arya. "I wish I could show you, show you why it must be her."

"Then tell me. Tell me what you've seen, like you did Jon, about his parents,"

"Their story is not mine to tell, so there is little I can say. " Bran began, "But what I can say is that they were born together, right here, under this very tree, during the time when Winter was not so long, and yet they are Winters children," Bran told, turning his dull gaze up the red leave above. "They took him from here, from her, but they did not realize what they had done by separating that which had come into the world together, that which the Gods made as one."

Arya was still, her hand resting upon the blade Jon had gifted to her so long ago. She'd never much cared for the Lady in ice, she was just that, a lady in ice. "So how do we get her out?"

"We don't," Bran replied, turning his gaze back to her. "The ice isn't something you nor I can break,"

"Then what? Dragon fire?"

"No," The cold wind shook the branches above, they're breathe creating hot puffs of air with each breath. "It's not normal ice, haven't you ever wondered why it doesn't melt? Why she's stayed like that for so long?" She chooses not to answer, instead offering him the same blank stare he had been offering her. "Tears."

"What?"

"The ice is made of her tears. The tears of her pain, her anguish, her sorrow, her hope. They keep her alive until he is close enough that she might feel his presence and awaken again."

Arya was silent, talking in all that she had been told, part of her didn't want to believe that some girl stuck in ice would be the one to save them, but she also wanted to believe in Bran, believe that they would all live.

"The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives."

Arya frowned. "Stark words."

Bran shook his head. "It was a vow made between a brother and sister, who had no one left but each other. A vow she has held onto all this time, a vow that will give her the strength to destroy the Night King." With those final words, his eyes clouded over as he left once more to explore the past or do whatever it was he did.

Arra turned her gaze to the snow, white and pure, cold and deadly and wondered if she and the Lady were not so different. She too would do anything to protect her pack, what little was left of it, but could she kill one of her pack, could she kill the only one left of her family.

Standing she turned and made to leave Bran to wonder the past, he and Jon were all she had left, and unlike the Lady who slept beneath them, she would not allow either of them to taken without a fight, this was her vow, to her family.

* * *

Time has changed all that surrounds her, for how long she has slept she does not know. She walks the tunnels wondering how she'd come to sleep in such a dark place, and then she finds them, figures of the dead. The sight of stone Direwolves greet her, it gives her comfort to know her family has lived on.

Lady's huge form is walking ahead of her, the Direwolf standing taller than Sansa will be a terrifying sight to anyone they cross, but no Northman should have fear, for only those of the South shall know her rage.

When at last she emerges to the outside world, she finds herself surrounded by more stone walls, torches line the walls offering light through the night. It is silent as she walks, almost deadly so, as she walks through archways and wonders of the stone creation surrounding her.

The walls are high, so much taller then she had ever seen. She feels caged, trapped in this new world, ahead, Lady has stopped at another ache way, not waiting for Sansa before she disappears into the darkness that awaits. Trees await her when she follows. Trees which have grown, and yet are still so familiar become clear as her eyes adjust to the dark.

Her feet are bare, but she is not cold as she treads across the snow-covered ground, the path has not changed, it is still as it once was, much to her delight. The Heart Tree has grown in her absence but is a welcome sight as she kneels in her plain woolen gown.

"I come once more before you, the one true God, to renew a vow once made," She began, eyes rasing to look upon the face of her God. "I shall take back what is ours, take back what was taken, I shall fulfill my vow, no matter the price I have to pay."

Laugher close by had her quickly back on her feet, backing away into the darkness where the moonlight could not dare give her away. Eyes closing, she linked her mind to Lady, watching as she staked through the trees, her senses focusing on her surrounding.

From the safety of the treeline, they watched as two men in amour passed by the entrance, chatting amongst themselves, eyes swiping over Lady, yet not seeing her her hidden form. Eyes opening she followed the path back, Lady joining her she neared, her companion stood at her tallest, standing over Sansa as they made their way back out of the forest and into the stone creation once more.

Following the men's footsteps, she entered a yard of sorts and noticed the direwolf banners hanging from the high walls. Baskets of fire were placed around the yard, halting Lady she ventured further in alone, taking in the upper levels and the horse's nearby.

A man, dressed strangely passed by one of the upper open levels before disappearing into the stone building, never once taking notice of her standing alone. A single motion of her hand had Lady by her side, no sooner has she reached her side does the first shout ring out and she turns to see a man gazing at her, sword raised as he shouts.

"Intruder!Intruder!"

Shouts begin to ring out all around her, bells chiming from high above and ringing out loudly. Men with torches and swords seem to pour out of the walls, surrounding her, but never getting close. They whisper amongst one another, eyeing her and Lady before finally, a man dressed in all black steps forward, a white wolf of his own by his side.

He looks at her in disbelief, his breath catching as his eyes roam over both Lady and herself.

"My Lady, you have awakened?" His voice is deep and husky, it carries a familiar Northern accent, and yet there is something off about this man. He carries the looks of her people, but something about Lady's unease at the man tells her that not all is as it appears.

She is distrustful of this man, so decides to turn her attention to the wolf at his side. Smaller than Lady, he looks to be full grown, probably the runt of his litter, but he is still an impressive sight, but for she who grew up surrounded by the Direwolves of old, he is nothing but a tame beast in her eyes.

"My name is Jon Snow," The man carries on trying to capture her attention by taking a step forward, his brows pull together as he turns to look at a red-haired man behind him. "Maybe she speaks another tongue?"

"I understand." She says before the other man can answer. "I seek the one named Stark." She says pointing to the banner overhead.

There is a mummer among the men and then a noise comes from behind and she turns to see a boy in some kind of chair being wheeled towards her by a girl who looks like the man Snow but feels nothing like him.

"You been asleep for a long time, Lady Sansa. Much has changed since you walked the earth, but fear not, no man here will harm you."

"I do not fear them, I sense no magic from these people at all, but you, you carry old magic," Sansa says, cocking her head to the side she looked the boy over. He would be tall if he stood, though he was thin and lacked the strength a boy his age should most likely have, but taking into account that he wasn't standing, he probably had injured himself or had been born this way. "There can only be one reason I have awoken, so tell me," She stepped forward, eyes flashing as she asked, "Where is he?"

Time.

Time had changed the world around her, but one thing remained the same. Her brother was still out there, waiting for her to free him of his curse, and by her account, he had waited long enough.

* * *

The hall was filled to the brim with men from all houses North and South, all wanting to catch a glimpse of the newly awoken sleeping beauty, as they'd began to all her, but Sansa clearly cared about none but those of the North. She seemed to known which men belonged and which didn't and made it quite clear that she wouldn't have anything to do with any who was not of the North, even Jon himself.

The Dragon Queen had been kept away. Jon having visited her late last night and given her all the details he knew at the time, but Bran had locked both himself and Sansa away in his room, the two only emerging now, Sansa pushing Bran in his chair, her direwolf, bigger and far more aggressive then Ghost, prowling along behind them.

Whispering immediately came to a halt, all eyes turning to watch as this being, who had been asleep for thousands of years, who was a legend to their people, now walked among them like a God. She speared Jon not a single glance while she went about seating Bran at his usual spot, then took her seat beside Bran when he motioned for her to sit.

"My Lady," Lord Glover calls as he stands, his gaze respectful as he kneels down. "You have slumbered long, my Lady, but we the North did not forget you and yours while you slept." Shouts of aye ring out from other Northern men in the room, while those of the South look confused and worried to be left out.

"Your words are kind, and Bran has told me much of the war we face," She said as her hand reached out to sooth the muzzle of the direwolf who sat by her side, the wolf level with Sansa. "And although you say you remember, it seems much has been lost with time."

Confusion spreads across the room, and Jon takes this moment to intervene.

"Maybe we should wait for the Queen." Jon tries but is cut off.

"Traitor!" A voice suddenly shouts, followed by more shouts of rage.

"The long night is upon us once more, I can not say that we remember all, but if I might be so bold, can I ask if you fight alongside us in the battle to come." Lord Glover asks, raising his voice over the shouting, and the room quits. It is a question on many minds, this girl, will she help them? Jon too wonders of her answer.

"The Night King, might I ask what you know of him." She nods to a man from the South, wanting him to answer.

The man steps forward, his sign is not one known to Jon, and he doesn't bother to introduce himself as he answers the question asked of him. "He's a monster, my Lady, come to kill us all. If we don't fight together, then we have no hope." Cries of agreement go up from the man who is most likely his kin.

"He is my brother," Sansa says standing, and the room seems to suddenly grow cold as the torches around the room suddenly go out. Ice begins to form on the floor and walls, Southern men shiver in the cloaks as the cold sweeps over them while the Northerners look confused, they seem to understand that Sansa is no harm to them, and simply watch as the southerners beside them shiver and slowly begin to be freeze right before their eyes. Ice has begun to form at their boots and is slowly creeping up their bodies, and slowly creeping up Jon's own body.

"He was once a man, but now he is as you say, a monster. Do you know why he was turned into a monster?" She asked head bowed down and fists clenched, her hair a curtain concealing her/

"Sansa," Bran says and Jon can only watch in mute horror as she turns to show glowing ice blue eyes, eyes that mimic the Night King. "Perhaps you might find peace in the Gods wood, I assure you, no one shall bother you there."

Her body is still tensed, but slowly she relaxes, and with a single breath she seems to unfreeze the room. "Perhaps your right, Bran," Sansa says as her eyes return to their own bright shade of blue, they flicker to him as she turns to leave, and in her gaze, he see's death.


	2. Chapter 2

_**I do not own Game of Thrones.**_

* * *

 _ **This place.**_

 _ **These woods.**_

 _ **They carry the memories of her brother back to her. They echo with his laughter, they shout her name with his voice, they remind her of all the happiness they had once shared here together, but also of the pain and loss. She knows what he has done, knows how he has killed and taken loved ones from the people they were born to protect.**_

 _ **Protect.**_

 _ **They had been told their whole lives that the Gods had chosen them for a reason, had allowed them to breathe life when they should have been dead. For what reason was her brother, who had been beloved by all, now considered a monster by those he had once strived to protect.**_

 _ **Dragons circled in the sky above, wearily eyeing her, but she does not fear dragon fire, if anything, they should fear her. Her power came from the land, from the trees, from the Gods and as long as she still had breath to breathe, she would rid the North of this** **southern** **rule.**_

* * *

Winters are cold in the North, far colder than any of the other kingdoms, but one would not believe that if they came across the girl in a dress made for summer, laying back barefoot against a giant wolf in the snow, seemly at peace. She blends so seamlessly with the Gods tree behind her that Jon can't help but wonder whether she is a goddess herself for they look so similar.

He can't help but feel pained by her blatant dislike of him. Her disregard for those of the South implies that he who has southern blood is an undesirable sight in her woods, and aren't they hers.

This is her birthplace, more so than any man or woman living right now. She has laid in slumber for a great amount of time, but that does not diminish the fact that this woman, touched by the old Gods, is of the North, the true North.

"For what purpose have you come?" Her words carrying on the wind are like melody notes.

Her eyes, when they flicker open are like steel, cold and sharp, as she watches him cross the distance until the warning growl has him stopping.

The wolf is no friend to man. It has relished human flesh and will do so upon command again, its gold eyes reflect the same intensity of its mistress, the two as in connected as himself and Ghost had once been.

"We fight the same battle, do we not? Fight for the same people?" He asked anxiously, remembering well the words she'd spoken in the hall.

It was hard to envision that once the Night King had been but a man, been this girl's brother, but he knew the bond of family.

"And who is it you fight for?" She seems amused by his question and what he wouldn't give to have her look at him with anything other the then disgust and loathing.

"I fight for the living."

"Then no, we do not fight for the same people." She replies as her eyes slowly slip shut as if not seeing him will mean he is no longer in her presence. The wolf on the other hand, while it hasn't moved from its curled up position is watching him, golden eyes intense and Jon wonders if Ghost's siblings would have grown as large as this beast had they have lived.

"If not for the living, then who do you fight for?" He continues to question her, not wanting to leave, wanting to simply gaze upon the beauty before him like he had done for years beforehand.

For so long she has been his world, has been the only one he truly thought was his, but she has made it clear that he is unwanted. He is a child again when she gazes upon him, he is the outcast child that does not belong because he is not one of them.

"You wouldn't understand, no one can understand." Her eyes have strayed up to the leaves overhead, watching them sway gently with the breeze. "I don't fight for the living, Jon Snow," His name is poison dripping from her lips. "I fight for my people who are long gone, for my God who has suffered, and for my brother." The last part is said softly, gently, and Jon finds himself envious.

"What those men said is true, if you knew what,"

"I know what he's done," She spits surging to her feet, rage burning in her eyes, as she strides towards him. "I know the pain and suffering he's caused, but do not think I have not felt every ouch of pain they have, so if you want retribution," She stops before him, level with him as her eyes flicker into those blue sapphire orbs that mirror her brother. "Then take it." She says spreading her arms in contribution. "My pain is his, and his mine, we are connected until death take us both," A grin like the Stranger crossed her lips. "Do your worst."

She was earnest, she'd let him drive his sword through her without a second thought, and Jon couldn't fathom why after all this time she held such a devotion to her brother.

"He's not what you remember, he isn't your brother anymore." Her eyes narrowed, her tongue running over her top lip, and then she was pressed against him, her breath mingling with his own and while anyone watching them might think she was being seductive, she was anything but from where Jon was standing.

Tentatively she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his ear. "There's no good and evil when your fighting to protect someone you love. My people are all gone, he is all I have left." She pulls away and smiles, eyes still glowing. "I don't expect you, who kneels to the South to understand what love and loyalty mean."

"I kneeled so that my people would live."

"Traitor! Blackguard!" She shouted and the wolf answered her growling as she circled them both. "You're not one of us, your blood is tainted," She hissed as she moved further away from him, back towards the Gods tree. It groaned and creaked, the ground shifted beneath him, and the face of the tree seemed to condemn him with its bleeding red eyes. "You don't belong here, Jon Snow. Go back to your Dragon Queen, because you'll find no friend here in the snow and ice."

* * *

 _Tall, strong, handsome, they were but a few words she had heard to describe her brother, but to Sansa, he was so much more. She couldn't remember a day were they were not together, and while they should have probably learned to be apart from each other the older they got, that was not to be._

 _The older they grew, the more intuned with the Gods they became, and for a short time, they were happy._

 _When the war was just beginning, it was he who lead the people, he who they turned to when the men from the South came to massacre them in their beds while they slept. Alone, her brother might have fallen, but he was not alone, for she was always by his side._

 _Their power was old, passed down through the generations to those that who would lead the clan. Usually, there was only one born wielding the power of the Gods, so for the two of them to be born, both marked, they were considered special._

 _When the first tree fell, they realized that they were more connected to the Gods then they thought._

 _For every scared tree that fell, both of them gained its power. When the children realized that they could use this power, they came for her, but her brother would never allow them to take her. Instead, he offered himself, thinking that doing so, he would become the hero their people desperately needed, but instead, he became the monster which all feared._

* * *

The white wolf staked around the edges of her woods, observing her from the tree line. He seemed inquisitive about both herself and Lady, and within those red eyes, she saw a soul of old.

A flare of black before the pathway, had her eyes sliding to the advancing woman. She was petite, her hair almost the same colour as snow, but the trees shrieked that this woman didn't belong, had the same tainted blood as the man, Snow and that she was the one they called the mother of Dragons.

Bran had been very forthcoming in informing her of all the goings-on that had transpired while she'd slept. This woman, her ancestors had flown across the sea and took her land, and Sansa's own kin, Torrhen Stark, had kelt so that her people would not die by dragon fire, and so that she would never be discovered. Had she been awake, she would have shot them from the sky and watched with glee as the ice claimed their corpses as trophies.

They took the crown which belonged to her brother, the one she had left behind for her people to carry on while they both slept.

Jon Snow had given the North to this woman when it was not his to give, but the Dragon Queen would find that the North would not bend the knee again, not while Sansa stood ready to end all in the name of house Stark.

"You are in the presence of Daenerys of," A woman with olive skin began, and Sansa took note of the men now standing behind the so-called Queen of Westeros.

"I care not for who stands before me," Sansa spoke, still laying casually back against Lady, who had raised her head to view the people who had dared to enter their sacred woods.

"She is your Queen," The woman began again.

"She is no Queen of mine," Sansa snarled. "I have but one King, to whose you are not even worthy of hearing."

" My lady," A small man with mismatched eyes called, taking a single step forward. "I hear tales that you have slumbered long, and maybe you do not know, but the North bent the knee long ago."

"I did not bend the knee, nor has my King."

"Your King, Jon has bent the knee to me," Daenerys said glaring at Sansa.

"Jon Snow is no King of mine, you'll find my King will not bend so easily." Sansa eyes the men, some dressed in odd furry amour, skin as dark as tree bark, others stand in black amour, covered from head to toe.

"Name your King," Daenerys says, a smile appearing on her lips. "I'll show you how I can make him bend."

Sansa mirrors her smile, a small laugh escaping her parted lips as she stands, the snow crunching beneath her bare feet. "You have already met my King, or so I'm told, and while his true name is forgotten to all but me, he goes by another name, one, which all men know,"

The white wolf moved then, prowling so that he stood next to her, head bent and lips pulled back in a silent snarl as he regarded the Queen and her entourage.

"Pray tell, my lady," A bald man spoke up but didn't move from where he stood. "How is it there is another when we have been told that it was only you, who slept beneath the castle?"

Her hand reached out without thought to run her fingers through the thick fur of the wolf who stood ready to defend her from people he clearly knew if the look of surprise to pass over some of the faces was anything to go by.

"He was not as lucky as I, to have been found by our Kin," She offered, unwilling to give any more on the subject.

"My Lady," The small man again spoke, this time eyeing the two wolves warily. " My name is Triyon Lannister. Might I ask your name?"

"I am Sansa Stark," She looked to Daenerys, holding the other woman's gaze. "I am sister to the King in the North, and until his return, it is I who rule this land." A step forward was more than enough prompt for the men to draw their weapons. "This has been my home since long before you and yours dared to venture across the sea. I have seen ice dragons sore across the sky. I do not cower before fire, for I have witnessed fire made ice before my very eyes. Your people were driven from this land once before, so heed my advice, leave."

* * *

Since Sansa's awakening, things had taken a turn. Men who were once loyal to Jon now looked the Sansa. She was more Stark than any of the children Ned Stark had left behind, for her blood was true and pure. No southern blood diluted her blood, unlike the other Stark children.

Arya caught the rumors throughout the whole castle, how the true wolf had returned home, and if legends were true, she would drive the dragons back to the place from which they came. She had seen the power she wielded, a power that had been lost in time if her Fathers words were anything to go by.

'The Kings of old had power which they used to defend the people and land, powers granted to them by the Gods, but maybe we have fallen from their grace or maybe they are simply waiting for one worthy.'

Walking towards the hall, where everyone would be taking their supper, she couldn't help but wonder whether said power, hadn't passed on because the person who last held it still lived.

She'd glimpsed the frozen Lady more than once since she'd awoken but had yet been able to speak with her. There were things she wished to know, things she wondered if Sansa had the answers too. She herself had one God, his name, Death. She would not take another God again, but maybe she could learn about the Gods her Father favored over the one's her Mother prayed too.

She also wished to know more of the Night King, for Bran would speak not a word of the man he had been before he became the monster who haunted children's dreams.

The hall was filled, discussions ringing out loudly from all corners of the room and taking into account the murderous look the Dragon Queen was shooting in Sansa's directions, things had not ended well from her earlier visit into the Gods wood.

She had seen them entering the Gods wood, had wanted to shout out that they were not welcome to enter the place where her Fathers memory was most alive, but she been called away at the time, Bran needing her assistance with locating something or other.

Bran sits at the high table beside Jon and his Queen, but Sansa is seated with the Northern Lords. She doesn't appear to see this as a dishonor, freely speaking with the men throwing questions at her quicker then she can answer, but her smile is warm and tender. She enjoys their company and is not bothered by the looks being shot her way from all around the hall by jealous or weary men and women.

The wolf was laid out behind her mistress, golden eyes watching Arya as she entered. Ghost, to her surprise, was also next to the frozen Lady. Both wolves lay pressed against one another, facing both directions of the hall, yet red eyes turned to regard her as she walked towards where she would usually sit next to Bran.

Sansa had changed into a new gown but had remained barefoot. Her dainty feet were as pale as the snow, she couldn't help but wonder if her skin was just as cold. Bran had been tight-lipped about Sansa, telling her that the answers she sought could only come from Sansa herself.

Later, when Sansa stood having had her fill, of the meal presented to her, the men allowed her to go with any complaint. As before, she ignored the southern men, even those who greeted her or bowed, and carried on walking before she disappeared from view.

Jon, who hadn't spoken the entire night was watching her go, his eyes sorrowful, wishful. He barely spared anyone else a glance throughout the night, his gaze, whenever Arya looked his way, was always set upon the frozen lady. He'd been different since he'd come back from speaking with Sansa.

Seeing this as maybe her only possibility of meeting with Sansa, Arya took her leave, only offering Bran a nod before she disappeared into the shadows of the room and out into the dark hallways, already knowing where the Lady would be going.

Sansa had been offered a room, one close to Arya, but she'd yet to step foot in the room. The Godswood was where she could be found throughout the day and night, and the only time she left was when a servant went to fetch her when their meals were severed.

It wasn't easy to see in the dark, and the woods were slightly more difficult to navigate than the city streets, but the moonlight, when the clouds weren't hiding it, was how she came to stand across from the woman her Father had spent hours standing before praying too.

"Stark," Sansa said, her eyes still shining blue in the dark.

"Stark." Arya offered in return, eyes moving to see that the she-wolf was laid out behind her mistress, while Ghost sat at attention, his ruby eyes watching Arya.

"Bran tells me that your name is Arya," Sansa says, hand opening to collect some of the light snow which glistens in the moonlight as it falls. "It seems everyone would ask me questions today, so, Arya of house Stark, ask what you will."

For a moment Arya couldn't voice the questions her mind had been shouting out at her all day, and when finally her lips parted, she asked the one question she knew she probably wouldn't get an answer too.

"I don't doubt that you have the power to kill the Night King, but my question is whether or not can you go through with it?"

The snow in Sansa's hand began to twirl, swirling around her hand as the snow compacted in on itself until finally, a small figure of a wolf stood in Sansa's palm.

"I can tell that although you struggle to show your emotions, that you love both Bran and Jon," She said the second name like it was something foul to have crossed her tongue. "Very much. So tell me this, if it was either of them or one of those you have lost, would you not put a stop to them?"

"I'm not sure if I could, but it's not me who'll have to destroy my brother," Arya answered truthfully and felt a small bit of pity for the woman before her.

"Everyone I know is gone, all my friends, my family, everyone who loved me is dead, but he's still here. He's all I have," Something dark flickered across her features as she destroyed the wolf in her palm. " I won't allow him to suffer any longer."

"You said you're going to kill him, has it never crossed your mind to try and save him?"

Sansa smiled, a huff of a laugh escaping her lips as she turned away from Arya to face the Gods tree.

"I have no choice but to kill my brother. I know of the lives he has taken, and even if there was the way to save him, I wouldn't take it." Sansa said, turning her head slightly so that she made eye contact with Arya. "My brother and I are as old as some of the stars in the sky. Our time upon this earth has long since passed."

Arya frowned, unable to understand how this woman, someone who held such power could give up so easily. "So'll you just give up, you'll just allow him to die?"

Sansa turned then, and within her eyes, Arya saw him, Death, looking back at her.

"My brother has murdered thousands of innocent people. How can I do right by my people by allowing the one who harmed them to live, even if he didn't know what he was doing, it's still his hands that are coated in the blood of fathers, mothers, uncles, aunts, children, people who were precious to another." Sansa shouted anger and sadness mixing.

"Your thinking about everyone else, but what about what you want? What about what your heart wants?"

Sansa released a breath, the moonlight painting it an icy white before she answered Arya. "I don't have a heart, it was buried long ago with the one I love." Sansa words were but a whisper but Arya heard them. "My brother loved me, more than anything in the world." She confessed, holding her hand out once more as the snow again collected. "It was me they wanted, but he took my place"

The snow which she had been collecting in her palm was suddenly thrown at Arya, and then two snowy figures were stood between them. Unlike the Wolf, they weren't compacted together, the snow hanging like petals suspended in the air. Arya could tell that it was a man and a woman, watching as the man held out his hand for the woman, and then they were dancing, twirling around the snow as if they had done this a thousand times together.

"Is that you?" Arya asked, watching as the woman threw back her head in silent laughter when the man dipped her. "You look happy." It felt as if she were watching part of Sansa's life play out before her eyes.

"I was," Sansa nodded, her eyes following the figures. "For a long time, I didn't know anything but happiness, but I was a stupid girl." The figures stopped, standing facing one another, hands reaching out towards one another and then suddenly the man was being pulled away, other snowy figures pulling him away, while the woman fell to her knee's, her mouth open in a silent wail of grief.

Arya watched as the snow fell, the figures disappearing with the gentle breeze before she moved her gaze to lock with Sansa.

"I have dreamed of the life I might have lived while I slept, and in my dreams, we are always together," Sansa told, and Arya knew she was speaking of her brother. "My only regret is that I did end us both long ago."

"Killing people is easy, killing someone to protect someone you love is easy. Killing someone you love," Arya paused thinking of her family, before shaking away the image of having to kill any of them. "And what of those from the South, what will be the price they pay?"

"I can never forgive those of the South for what they have done to my people, to you and your family, to me and my brother," Sansa took a shaky breath, the rage clear in her clear blue eyes. "They will know my rage, and they will see what those of the North can do and before my time ends, I shall free the North, and so help me they shall never think to cross our people again, least I rise again and kill every last one of them."

The silence that followed felt like death slowly creeping upon them. It wasn't just a threat, Sansa's truly meant to kill anyone she believed didn't belong in the North.

"And Jon? What do you intend to do with him?"

"You are Stark, as am I, but dragons blood runs through his veins, so the choice is his," Sansa said, her eyes drifting to where Ghost still sat waiting by her side. "A fire dragon does belong in the North, but maybe, an ice dragon might find a home with the wolves?"

Arya nodded and then to leave, the snow crunching beneath her boots as once more she allowed the moonlight to lead her back inside the castle.

The meaning behind the words was simple, Jon had to choose, did he stand with the North or would he choose the South.


	3. Chapter 3

_**I do not own Game of Thrones.**_

* * *

 ** _Dreams_**

 ** _Sometimes when I would dream, I'd fancy I'm home again. I'm together with my brother and those we have lost, and in my dreams, we are always together._**

 ** _I do not think I could breathe without these dreams because there is no place left to call home. There is no place left to call our own. They are like drifting snow at two ends of a storm, so far apart that one can't help but wonder should they ever meet again._**

 **Brother**

 **My brother is all I have, he is all that is left of what we once held dear, and I will not live in a world without him.**

 **The time of waiting is over, he is close, so close that her every breath awakens the blood which had laid dormant within her body into a furious rage.**

 **Soon.**

 **Soon they shall be together again, and nothing shall ever separate them again, ever.**

* * *

The Gods woods had not always been enclosed behind castle walls. Once, long ago, they had been vast and endless. They had spread as far as the eye could see and had reached so far that those of the North did not where it ended. A land which had once been so familiar was now nothing but a foreign land to Sansa.

She cared little for the castle of Winterfell, finding it damp, dank and dark, but as the days passed she came to understand that it was good people who made good places. It gave her hope, that these people, people descended from her own were people that they could be proud of.

They were different, and yet what they valued most had not changed.

"My Lady," She turned to face the half man, Tyrion, the imp they called him, but Sansa would not dishonor him by calling him such.

"Very few men from the South would dare to confront me, never twice, yet here you stand, one man alone."

He offered a smile, something which twisted his face and gave her a feeling of unease. His hair, lank and pale reminded her of the Dragon Queen. The scar which crossed his face was that which only a warrior could have received, but what battles the man had won were unknown to Sansa, and she cared too little ask the man how he'd come to gain such a battle wound.

"Apologies, My Lady, if I have disturbed you while at prayer." He offers, bowing his head, but Sansa is unsure if he does so out of respect, or fear that she'll simply kill him where he stands. She had warned them upon their last visit that those not of the North were not welcome in the Gods Wood. "I had hoped to speak with you if you would be willing to spare but a moment of your time."

He hadn't taken notice of Lady moving silently behind him. Sansa keeping her gaze focused on the man least she alerts him to the wolf coming to a halt behind him. Lady dropped her head to blow out a breath which had the man stiffening and turning wide eyes to see the direwolf towering over him. Her lips curl back to allow him a sight of her teeth, a snarled rumbling low in her throat as she snaps at the man.

"Such a long time has passed since she has tasted man's flesh," Sansa comments as Tyrion falls back a step, his fear causing Lady to step forward with him. "But, I suppose I am curious as to why you have come." She says and the direwolf huffs as she passes the man, coming to lay behind Sansa, golden eyes watchful of the man who dared to return.

Either the man before them is extremely ignorant, or he has more courage then any man before him, which of the two remains to be seen as she watches him right himself, his eyes flickering between herself and Lady as if either will strike at any given moment.

"It has been made known to me that when we last spoke, that myself and my associates did not know much of what was said in the hall. For the disrespect paid to you, I apologize." His voice didn't waver, she'd give him that, but the fear was still present in his eyes.

"Such a strange man you are," She said, striding forward so that she could loop around him, looking at him from all angles. " I don't believe I've ever met such a man like yourself before," Sansa voiced out loud, halting when she rounded to stand in front of him, bending slightly so that she could peer into his oddly colored eyes.

"There were no half men in your time?" He jokes, but it falls flat when he see's just how unamused Sansa is at his attempt at a joke.

"A man has never been measured by his height, but by the courage of his heart, the strength in his back and will of his mind," Sansa clarified, standing back to full height and returning to where she had stood facing the Gods Tree.

"Interesting words, My Lady."

"Why do you call that?" She asked turning to eye him. " I am not your Lady, and if you wished to show me the respect I deserve, then you would address me as, Your Grace, for I am Queen until my brothers return."

"The Night King? You think he shall return to claim this land?"

"I do not think, I know," Sansa affirmed. "Even now he marches towards us. He grows closer each day, and soon he and his army shall be upon us." A smile ghosted her lips. "Do you fear death, Tyrion Lannister?" She questioned allowing the ice to bleed into her eyes.

"I do, Your Grace," he admitted, as he took a shaky breath.

She allowed the ice to slowly fade away. "I see you are a clever man. A man wiser than those who he stands with, but not even the wise man can escape death."

"You seem to have done just so,"

"I am no man and I was but one chosen by the Gods, only they know when my time upon this earth shall come to an end." She cocked her head, red hair falling across her shoulder. "But none of what we've spoken of is what you came to ask."

Tryion nodded, swallowing as he stepped forward. "You spoke of fire made ice, you said that saw ice dragons fly? Have you heard of dragon glass?"

"When the fire dragons first flew across the sea, they brought nothing but devastation. They burnt the land under the command of their riders. They burnt families in their homes. They brought death to all they crossed until they came upon us and they soon learned that the North was not so easily conquered.

The White Waste was the home of the ice dragons, and only those chosen by the gods could awaken them from beneath the ice were the slept. When they came to burn our land and people, the chosen stepped forth and dragons rose from the ice, wings so clear that you could see the blue sky clear through their wings as they soared overhead. Eyes pale blue crystals, and a breath that could freeze all in its path. Fire was made Ice that day, and they were driven back to land from which they came."

Tryion was captivated by her words, his eyes large with wonder, hanging upon her every word. "And these chosen, they rode atop the ice dragon?"

Lady growled, her own eyes bleeding from molten gold into an icy blue.

"The chosen have had but one chosen companion and the direwolf has stood by our side since the first chosen came to be, and they shall continue to stand by our side until the last, as is the way of the Gods."

"Such loyalty." Tyrion acknowledged.

"Dragons know not of the bond of loyalty, nor of love or family. They were created by magic long ago and were given no such traits." Sansa offered, her hand reaching out to caress Lady's cheek as the direwolf came to stand beside her. Lady's large form nudging her when Sansa did not immediately begin petting. "Those who control them, do not always do so with good intentions, like your Queen."

Tryion was silent, his eyes boring into Sansa's as they stood mere feet apart.

"Do you have a family?" She asked suddenly and it seemed to take him by surprise for he took a moment to answer, his answer seeming to take longer than necessary.

"I do," He seemed hesitant. "A brother, Jamie."

Sansa nodded, a tender look crossing her face. "He is not with you?"

"He fights for another Queen," Tryion stated sadly. "But perhaps you might meet him one day."

"Possibly, but now I have a question for you, Tyrion Lannister," Sansa said. "Would you fight for your brother? Would you die for your brother?" She waited for his answer, but it did not come straight away so she carried. "You see, I'm not like you, because, for my brother, I'll do anything."

* * *

Rarely has she left the Gods Woods, but tonight it would seem that the Gods have wish of her elsewhere, for the wolves insist that she follow them, leading her back down to the place where she had once slept encased in the tears of her anguish.

The stone figures watch her as she passes them by, their stone eyes boring into her back as she carries on following the wolves until she comes to a stop at the figure of a man. His face long and reserved, he carries similar features to all the other men who have gone before him.

"My Father," A voice whispers from the dark and then Jon Snow comes forth into the light. "They didn't manage to create his likeness I'm afraid." He says sadly, eyes flickering away from her to the statue she stands before.

"Bran has told me much, so I know that he is not your Father, but simply a man who loved his sister enough that he jeopardized his own children." Her words are not meant to be cruel, she simply speaks the truth and yet her words are like draggers if he the way he flinches away from her is anything to go by.

"It doesn't matter that he wasn't my birth Father, he took me into his home and loved me like a son, he'll always be my Father." Jon defended.

"Good," Sansa said, turning to face him. "Because if you had answered differently, I'd have struck you down where you stood."

Jon Snow's eyes were as dark as the night sky and there seemed to be a certin twinkle in his eyes as she stood facing him with only the candles as a source of light.

"Many would condemn him for what he did," Jon says.

"I loved my Brother, just as much as he loved me and had he left a child, I would have done the same thing." She was being honest, for as much as she might dislike Jon Snow for his blood, had she been left a niece or nephew, she would have cared and loved it like her own.

"Neither your Brother nor you married?"

"When your people are at war, you have little time to find a love match, least of all when no man would dare approach me for fear their King would strike them down for simply speaking with his sister," Sansa said, recalling fondly some of the men that had fleed when catching sight of the elder twin.

"He must have been a great warrior if a man would flee your side from just the sight of him," Jon said, and Sansa could tell he was remarking upon her beauty.

"He was many things, a great warrior, a just King, a man chosen by the Gods," Sansa smiled sadly as she recalled all of what had once been said about him. "Now they call him monster, beast, devil." Her hands clenched before she turned to look at the statue directly in front of Ned Stark. "Your Mother?"

Lyanna Stark, Bran had told Sansa her story. Her lips curled in disdain because this woman who had betrayed them had been honored with a spot where only those worthy should have been buried. Had Sansa been a petty person, she'd destroy the statue and ripe the bones from the ground and watch them crumble to ash.

She passed him by, looking at the statue next to Ned Stark, a young boy with a fierce wolf at his side.

"My youngest brother, Rickon Stark." Jon offered, moving to stand beside her. "He died in the battle to retake Winterfell."

Sansa stares at the boy. She has never seen a child die in battle, but she has seen those murdered by their enemies. "Children aren't meant to live such short lives, especially not the kind of life he has had to live." She stated sadly.

Another statue directly across from Rickon had Sansa turning, a feeling of unease washing over her as she stood before the man carved into stone. There was something missing, something not quite right about the statue.

"My Brother Robb, he was King in the North until he was betrayed," Jon told watching as a true smile crossed her lips as she reached out to cup the stone cheek in her hand. "They were unable to recover his crown from the Riverlands, but should it be found we will place it here with him."

Without thinking, she cupped her hands together allowing the ice to form until within her palms was a replica of the crown her own brother had once worn. Gently setting it atop of the statue's head, she courtesied to the statue. "I could think of no better man to wear the crown my brother once wore, and until his own can be found, he shall have a crown of ice."

Jon seems speechless at her act, but finally, words fall from his lips. "Thank you. I don't know what to say,"

"Then don't say anything," Sansa interrupts. "I, more than anyone, know the bond shared between siblings."

"You know he broke the ice," Jon's words confused her for they seem to come out of thin air, them having not been speaking of ice in any form. "I mean the ice that encased you," He clarifies.

"Oh?"

"Years ago, when we were not but children, Robb wondered down to where you stood, he was sleepwalking you see," Jon says casting his eyes briefly to his brother. "I found him. I was prone to wandering down myself to speak with you," He confessed, embarrassed. "When I found him, he was speaking to you, to low for me to hear where I stood, but then he reached out, his hand wiping away the frost which hid you party from view. The path his hand followed hissed and cracked beneath his palm, I feared you might be hurt so I pulled him away."

Sansa stared at him, taking in his every word before finally, a look sadness mixed with happiness washed over her face. "He never did allow me to sleep once he himself had awoken." She said more to herself than to Jon who stepped closer to hear her muttered words more clearly.

"I don't understand,"

"My brother, would you hear his name, his true name?"

For so long his name was all she had of her once beloved sibling, the only keepsake she had of him, for while the everyone else might have forgotten the man lost to time, Sansa would never. Maybe his man before her, Jon Snow, deserved to know him, to know the name of her King which had once been chanted alongside her own name.

"I would hear it gladly, if only you wish to tell me."

He confused her, this Jon Snow. She had made her dislike of him obvious, had stated clearly that he was not desired and yet, here he stood, as kind to her as he had been since the moment they had first come face to face in the courtyard. She knew he thought her beautiful, probably though himself in love with her and yet not once had he voiced any of this.

"If your not ready, I can wait." He says when she has been silent for too long.

She shakes her head, an amused smiled crossing her lips.

"His name," She recalls a tangled mess of red hair that curled around his neck and ears, eyes the same shade of blue as her own, and a smile which she so longs to see after having been without it for so long.

They are not same, but maybe for a brief moment they were, and that is all that matters when her lips form his name and Jon stares in sudden silence, his eyes moving from her to the statue of the man who stands behind her, a man born with the face of her own brother.

"Robb Stark."

* * *

 ** _The cold breeze was barely a tickle to either of them who had ice in their veins. Clinging to each other, she tried to see through her tears least this be the last time they see each other._**

 ** _"We're not meant to be parted, we're meant to stay together, until the end." She cried brokenly, allowing him to pull her close and run his fingers through her hair like he had done a million times before. "Please, please don't leave me."_**

 _ **Swallowing, he tried to talk through his own heartbreak and sorrow. "If one of us has to die, then let it be me,"**_

 _ **"No," She cried, pulling back to look into blue eyes, eyes that have seen the same world as her since the moment they came into the world together.**_

 _ **"Let me do this. Let me be the hero you though me to be as children.,"** __**She shook her head, unable to meet his gaze any longer. "Sansa, Sansa look at me." He said grabbing her face and forcing her to look at him.**_

 _ **"How can you think your not my hero, you've been my hero since the day we were born, your all I have, please, don't do this." She pleaded as he wiped away her tears, hushing her as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.**_

 ** _"Listen to me, okay?" She nodded, "We're going to have to go our separate ways, okay, now hush," He said when she opened her mouth to allow another broken sob to leave her. "I'm your big brother, so remember everything we've done together, all the dances we've shared, remember my name and one day, if the Gods will it, I will return to you."_**

 _ **"You have to know, I won't rest until we are together again."**_

 _ **His smile filled with such sadness would be forever imprinted in her heart.**_

 _ **"I love you."**_

 _ **She knew at once this was goodbye. "I love you too." She said clutching his hands in her own.**_

 _ **Stepping away from her, their hands stayed together and then just before they broke apart he whispered words, words that would bind her to the earth and to him until a time were those words came true.**_

 _ **"Save me."**_

* * *

The snow fell heavy. A sheet of white which stole breath and blocked all from sight. Robb had always used this trick as children to keep them hidden when they'd go out to play, he'd cloak them so that the adults could not separate them. As children, it became clear that while they were both chosen, they had both been gifted different powers.

The weather could change in a heartbeat if Robb's mood willed it. She could remember the wind howling alongside Robb when he ran, lighting flashing when he was angry, and softly falling snow that illuminated his smile. It had taken years of practice to control, and Robb had delighted when at last he was able to bring a fierce snowstorm to an end.

His power, of course, wasn't just that he had control of the weather, Robb had always delighted at being able to bring her creations to life. Snowmen they'd make together would come to life, wolves made of her ice would run alongside them, it had broken Sansa's heart, that his gift could become something so twisted that it could give life back to the dead, but like all of the snowmen and ice wolves, Robb controlled them.

Sansa's own gift's had been slightly different. Her ease at manipulating and creating snow and ice had meant that many of the townsfolk came to her in the summer to create clean drinking water and where Robb could give life, Sansa could take it. Her powers allowing her to slowly turn anyone or anything into ice, shattering it with merely a wave of her hand.

Once, Sansa had been called the 'Dragons Breath'. A title she'd hated as soon as she'd heard the rumors, but a title she had earned by destroying those who would dare call themselves her enemy.

Now, standing atop of the castle wall, Sansa stood alone as everyone else took shelter from the storm only she could face, because out their somewhere across the frozen land of the North, her brother marched an army of the dead to take all that was once dear to the both of them.

"Soon," She says as the wind whips her dress up around her knees, her hands reaching out as if to summon him closer. "Soon we shall be together again."

She has made him wait long enough, and if there is even a single thread of her brother left, then it is here he will come in search of her.


	4. Chapter 4

**_I do not own Game of Thrones_**

* * *

 _ **Reunion.**_

 ** _We all hope that one day we might reunite with those we have lost. Whether they are friends we have lost touch with, or family, who we have grown apart from, we always hope that somehow, a day will come when we might be together again._**

 ** _Brother._**

 ** _A brother is usually the hero, the one who comes to recuse his sister, but history will speak of a different story, for it shall be I who will save my brother. I will sacrifice all that I am to make it so that we shall never be parted again._**

 ** _Dragons._**

 _ **They say that dragons from across the sea are fire made flesh, and maybe such a thing is true, but here, we have a different tale. They say ice dragons are created from the tears of a maiden, tears that were so powerful they gave life to a creature which could protect her in her hour of greatest need. They say only a maiden can call forth the beasts that have laid in slumber beneath the ice.  
**_

* * *

The Northmen are a breed of their own. Rambunctious, joyous even in the face of death, and loyal, they have always been loyal. If Sansa is to meet her end, then she would gladly sup with the men and woman of the North and die knowing that she was surrounded by her people.

They are welcoming of her, treating her like a long-lost family member, inviting her to sit with them and share in stories. For every story she offers, they, in turn, offer one to her. Children who had sought settler behind the walls of Winterfell seek her attention more often then naught, but rarely does she get a moment for them as the grown men and women seek her attention from dawn to dusk.

The Lords and Ladies find themselves interpreted by bannermen eager to speak to her. Having been alone for so long they are a welcome sight when she leaves the Gods Wood, their calls of her name ringing out from all corners of the castle.

The Southern people who now dell within and outside the walls are ever watchful, some even find the courage to approach her, some stare at her lustfully from a distance, but all fear her. It matters little to her that they have come as allies to the North, the past is not so easily forgotten.

"I know that the cold has no effect on you, but surely the boots we offered are better than walking barefoot?" Ayra said as she dropped down to sit in the packed snow beneath the Gods Tree. An apple pulled from within her cloak was sliced in two, and half offered to Sansa, which she took gratefully.

"I like the snow." Sansa offered with a whimsical smile. "As a girl, summer and winter changed places often. We had no long night nor long summers, but the Children of the Forest changed the seasons when they used their magic to turn my brother into the man he is today."

Arya frowned, licking the juice from her fingers. "Why only him, why not the two of you?"

"They wanted me, but as much as he loved the North, my brother loved me more." She confessed. "They were afraid that they wouldn't have the power to control both of us, so when he offered himself in my place they thought that because he was willing that he'd be easier to control, but they were wrong." Robb was never going to take orders, he was a King, it was he who gave the orders. "Whatever it is they've done to him has only amplified who he was and so because he was a king, fighting a war, he needed subjects to destroy his enemy."

"He brought the dead back to life."

"His gift became his greatest weapon." A gift which had once brought joy now caused nothing but pain and suffering. "As a girl, I was jealous of the gifts the Gods had granted him. I would sometimes wonder whether he had been gifted and I cursed, our powers so different."

"You can fight, that is a gift alone," Arya said, eyes burning fiercely.

Sansa regarded her for a moment. "I have taken more lives then you have probably seen in your lifetime," Sansa said recalling some of the more memorable deaths she had delt in her lifetime. "My brother, just and noble would deal them a swift death, but I, I made them suffer." She regretted none of the terror she had caused to those who had threatened them. "My powers, while they can aid our people, were designed for reaping vengeance against our enemies"

Arya for once seemed to have nothing to say, and Sansa felt that this was allowed. She wasn't a hero to be praised or admired, that had been Robb. It was Sansa who had been the true monster who wiped out the enemy when Robb allowed it. He had valued life, had not wanted war, and had it not been for those of the South he could have lived out the life he often dreamed of living.

Her rage once knew no bounds when it came to those of the South, and yet she had seen those men drink ale with the Northmen, join in their songs, laugh and train alongside them. This had been what Robb had wished for them all, to live peacefully, so why had it taken Robb becoming the enemy to unite them?

"My family was betrayed, murdered and I lost everything I once held dear." Arya's voice broke the silence. "Had I been able too, I would have killed them all before they could lay a single finger upon those that now lay dead in crypts below. My Brothers Robb and Rickon, my Mother, my Father, I have since avenged them, but still, I long for those who have escaped my blade."

Sansa smiled. "I would offer my assistance, but I assume that their death is yours to claim." It was her duty to protect the people of the North, and she had failed, her people suffering while Robb and she slept. "Many will die in the war to come, do not allow yourself to be one of them."

* * *

The Hot springs created a steady amount of steam no matter the weather, but the fact of the matter was that he still shouldn't have been able to see her as she stood waist deep in the boiling water. The water clinging to her skin, her hair darker than usual, cascaded down her back. She was breathtaking, truly a being created by the Gods for she had no flaws.

He didn't dare move, terrified she would catch him watching her, and yet he couldn't find it in himself to look away. He'd not known she was bathing, had thought to find her beneath the Gods tree, either standing and staring aimlessly into the leaves or laid back against Lady, the wolf watching over her mistress as she slept.

The wolf had to be close by, and the flicker of grey fur prowling by from the corner of his eye alerted him to the giant wolf as she circled around behind him. She knows he's here, knows that he is watching her, and Lady is her way of speaking without her having to voice a single word.

She is bold as she goes about washing herself, taking her pleasure as she ghosts her hands across her body, never once turning her eyes to him, but watching him all the time through the golden eyes of the wolf who sits and watches him.

His breath caught as she turned to face him, pale blue eyes finally finding his own dark eyes, her hand lifting to palm one of her breasts all the while lips curled in a devilish smile. Suddenly, she was walking toward him, hand reaching out for him to come to her and his feet moved without prompt bringing him into the water till they were stood level with one another.

Without his notice, he found himself seated, Sansa's hands on his shoulder as she saddled him. Tentatively, she trailed her fingertips along his jaw, ghosting them across his lips, causing his heart to beat madly.

He couldn't look away, couldn't keep his eyes from watching her and that's how he saw it, the icy blue slowly creeping into her eyes, her skin pale as the moonlight slowly encasing itself in ice, her hair fading to a snow white. A walker, she was becoming a white walker.

"You know nothing, Jon Snow," She whispered ghostling her lips over his own.

He sprung from his bed, the sweat clinging to his skin as he tried to breathe and take in his surroundings all at once.

He was in his room, the same room he'd had as a boy. Ghost, who had once slept with him, now chose to sleep out in Gods woods with Sansa. His wolf favored the once sleeping lady over him, not that he could blame him.

With great haste he grabbed his cloak and dressed and was setting a fast pace to reach the Gods wood because he had to see her, see with his own eyes that it had all been nothing but a dream.

The cold was biting when he finally reached outside, his feet dragging in the deep snow. He knew not how she could stay out here at all hours, how she could curl up with the wolf and simply sleep as if the cold was not killing more of their people then the Night King himself.

"So, you do have wolf blood," Her amused voice said as he came into view of where she lay beneath the Gods Tree, Lady, and Ghost surrounding her form.

"My Mother was a Stark."

"That may be true, but you do not bare her name nor were you born in the North, and you have lost your wolf." She smiled viciously, and Jon questioned if the moment they had shared not hours ago in the crypts meant nothing to her.

"My blood is the blood of a Stark, and Winterfell is my home."

"Home?" She echoed, losing the fierce guarded look which she'd maintained since he'd appeared. "I want to go home," She said and Jon felt as if she was revealing to him a secret no one else could know.

"Isn't this home?" He questioned, his gaze momentarily moving to Ghost who pressed his nose against Sansa's cheek.

"They've all gone now, and without them, this place can never be my home." She spoke and Jon wondered if she too was haunted by the ghosts of those who had once walked beside them. "I miss them, as I'm sure you miss your family, but you still have something to hold onto, while I have nothing,"

"Your brother, Robb, he grows closer each day." She already knew this, of course, the Northerners kept her well informed for she refused to see the Dragon Queen after their last encounter. "Soon, you'll have what you always wanted,"

"And what is it that I have always wanted?" She questioned curiously.

"To free your brother." Since the moment she had awoken her only goal was to save him, who she loved more than anything else in the world, but maybe when she saves him she would desire to fulfill other dreams. "To live the life you never got the chance to live?"

"To live the life I never go to live," There was something hidden in her words, something that flashed in her eyes. "What is it you hope for?"

All his life he had wanted to be a Stark, now he could never be, but still, he longed for the same things he wished for as a bastard boy. A wife who he could wrap in his cloak, children who would not be known by the name Snow, but what he really longed for, was the one who was now before him.

"My only hope is that I live to see the end of this war." Jon offered, tightening his cloak.

Sansa gave a chime of laughter as if to mock him about being cold, she still going barefoot and in nothing my a simple woolen dress. "Why leave the warmth of your stone walls, if the cold bothers you so?"

"For you," his answer seemed to surprise her. "I had to know that you were safe."

Slowly getting to her feet, Sansa kept her eyes cast down to the snow covered ground as she came to halt in front of him. "As a girl, I dreamt of falling in love, of marrying a man who would love me for me," she confessed as her eyes finally lifted. "You could have been that man, Jon Snow, but I cast aside all my dreams long ago." He couldn't help but search her eyes for any kind of hope that maybe, there could be something. "I'm not worthy of the love and devotion you so clearly have for me."

"You are,"

"I'm not," she cut him off with a shake of her head. "But I am thankful." Her eyes so clear finally mirrored the real emotion that she was feeling. "I never thought that someone other then my brother would ever truly love me, but you prove me wrong at every turn."

He opened his mouth but couldn't voice a single word.

As if finally remembering herself, Sansa took a step away, her eyes once more hiding all that lay hidden in her heart.

"The North is more than just a land of snow and ice. It is a land built on the hopes and dreams of all those who have gone before us. When summer returns this land shall be more beautiful than any other kingdom, and I believe you will be there to see it." The wolves rose from their seat positions. "Only a Stark may rule the North, so I ask, who are you?"

As if to mock him, dragon screeches echoed above in the sky, while below the wolves cried a mournful howl and all Jon could think was, who am I?

* * *

Bran spent much of his time indoors, Winter so strong that he could barely spend an hour outside before his skin began to gain a blue tint. Sansa, a form of Winter herself spent hours out in the cold and would enter the castle looking like she'd not been out in the cold for hours, sometimes napping beneath the Gods Tree.

He'd seen it, the life she and her brother had lived together so many lifetimes ago. She had been a happy child, though sometimes her eyes had clouded over with sadness. A sadness which her brother, Robb, would banish by taking her hand and leading her out into the golden fields which circled their little home.

The land of the North was so different, had been a place that could rival the Reach in terms of the beauty it held, but that had all changed. The land had changed when the siblings went to sleep, and slowly what was once a land of growth and life, turned into the barren snow-covered land Bran had grown up knowing.

"He's in love with you." He said when at last he knew they were alone, Sansa sitting in the snow, her power creating and destroying the different figures she made. "He has been since he was a boy."

"I know." She offered with a breathy sigh.

"But you intend to die." He'd known for a long time that whatever the outcome of the war, Sansa didn't plan to live any longer than necessary.

"I've lived my life, and while it wasn't perfect, it was mine," Sansa said smiling as Lady followed Ghost out of the woods, most likely to hunt. "And I can't change what is to happen, and even if I could, I wouldn't."

"You made your choice long ago," Bran said to which Sansa nodded in agreement. "You will be dearly missed."

"We will see each other again, I'm sure of it." Sansa offered a smile, a true smile, probably one of the first Bran had seen since she'd awaken.

"You once smiled like that all the time," At his words her smiled fell away. "You used to dance beneath the moonlight with Robb, you were both so happy back then."

"I was happy," Sansa agreed. "So happy that no words can explain the joy I once felt," Sansa confided, "He was my world. He was the one person I thought I could never lose, but I did, and him not being there was more painful than anything I had ever felt." For someone so good at hiding her true emotions, Sansa's voice portrayed the true pain she felt inside. "I never knew love could hurt till the day I lost him."

"You speak often of your lose, but what about all you have gained?"

"You and yours shall always have a place in my heart, as will all those of the North, but Robb is my brother and I we have been parted for far too long." Sansa began, climbing to her feet. "The world has changed, Bran, and it no longer has need of me and my brother." She said turning away and making to leave him alone.

"The world is ever-changing," Bran agreed, watching her walk away. "But the North will always need Robb and you."

* * *

 ** _They call him a monster, but I remember the boy who took my hand and shared with me the wonders of the world._**

 **They speak his name with fear and resentment, but once his name was the beloved chant our people sang upon our return from battle.**

 **Never once had it crossed my mind that we would not be together, and maybe it was girls stupid dream to always have her brother by her side, but I thought that nothing could ever separate us, until one day, something did.**

* * *

The whispers that he is close reach Sansa no matter how hard they try to keep it from her. The dragon Queens orders are that Sansa is not to be informed of the goings-on of the council meetings, but Northman are loyal to their own and Sansa is more their Queen then Daenerys will ever be.

The inhabitants of the castle are running around in chaos, people coming and going each day, the children having been shipped out in carts as soon as word reached them that her brother was far closer then they had believed and now, the time for war draws near.

Boys and girls as young as one and ten, stay on to fight. They come to her for advice under the cover of darkness, hoping that no one shall see how they fear what will surely be a battle that they will not survive.

A terrible fate for someone so young, but Daenerys will not allow them to leave, wanting all who are able to fight. It is cruel to sentence someone so young to what will surely be death, but Sansa's mind has been elsewhere.

The leaves of the heart tree whisper words that she can not comprehend and so, much of her time is spent in prayer, deaf to all who speak to her while she listens to the words her Gods try to convey to her.

Jon, though he has not spoken to her since she turned him away has been watching her, thinks he's a clever thing, hiding where she can't see him, but Sansa knows the exact moment he enters the Gods woods, the tree's calling out that he is near.

Robb, she knows would have liked the man, her brother not to overly concerned about blood like Sansa, but still, Sansa wonders what Robb would think of so many southerners being here, and men from across the sea, and fire dragons. The beasts seemed to feel the power within Sansa revealed that of their own and had become unruly, wanting to be as far away from her as possible.

It is when Arya comes to her in battle amour that Sansa understands the words the Gods whispers to her, and she knows what it is she needs to do.

"Some of us are leaving within the hour, we hope to circle them and trap them." She speaks as if she expects Sansa to offer battle advice on the plan they have formed, but Sansa has no time for words as she stands, red hair wiping back and forth with the harsh wind that has roared to life but an hour ago.

Lady slips from the trees, her giant form bending as Sansa hoists herself up onto the wolf's back and unable to stop herself, her eyes flicker to Jon Snow, still watching her from the tree. Ghost appears behind him, head dipping slightly as his red eyes watch both her and Lady.

"Goodbye, my friend." Sansa's whisper is lost to the howl of the wind, but Ghost throws his head back in a silent howl.

Lady's body launches forwards, startling men, shouts of surprise ring out as they run through the courtyard and towards the gate. They race past the men and women camped outside, many having never actually seen Lady cry out in fear and throw themselves out of the way. The pace is steady, but when Lady slows to a halt at the top of the hill, Sansa finds herself looking back in the direction of the castle, and finally sees the lone figure in black standing atop the castle wall, looking out towards her.

He may very well be dead by the time she returns, but she hopes not because Jon Snow had never answered her question; was he a dragon or was he a wolf?

* * *

There are men and women all around him dying, falling to their knee's in the snow as the life slips from their eyes. The dead are upon them and it seems that all hope is lost.

The battle rages in the sky above as much as it does on the ground, and it seems that they lose more men with every second that passes.

Jon is no stranger to war, is no stranger to losing someone in battle, but the weight of the loss surrounding him is heavy on his chest. Still, he fights, because a part of him believes that they will win, that she will come for them. It doesn't matter that he saw her flee, that the southerners say that she abandoned them because Jon can't believe that Sansa, who loves their people so much, would just run away.

Slightly ahead of him he catches sight of Arya before she is lost to the hoard of walkers charging towards him. Swinging left, he puts an end to the reanimated Glover bannerman that had slowly been rising after having died not seconds ago.

Northmen still shout to have faith in their Lady, that she will come, that she will not abandon them in their hour of greatest need, and Jon wants to believe so much that she will come, but when the blue flames of Viserion burn his men alive, what little faith he'd been clinging to fades.

He'd already put an end to Rhaegal. The dragon having fallen to the icy spears of the white walker generals, the poor beast had died slowly, its echoing cries reaching Jon from across the battlefield, and it had still been alive when Jon reached it, trying to burn the walkers that were crowding it. When it had finally breathed its last breath, Jon had stabbed it with his blade, lest it rises again and be used against them.

A sad faith for such a creature and briefly Jon's thoughts wondered to Ghost who had been with him at the beginning of the battle.

The trembling beneath his feet and the roaring echo of dragon cries took Jon momentarily off guard and he turned to see the two remaining dragons, laying in a charred heap atop one another. Rhaegal's bright blue eyes were wide, while Drogon's golden eyes were half closed, the dragon's chest rising and falling at an unsteady pace.

Daenerys was crying out something, something Jon was unable to hear from the raging battle going on all around him, but when Rhaegal lifted its head, mouth opening Jon felt his body freeze. The dragon was dead and felt no pain, where Drogon was injured and had no fight left in him.

Suddenly, there's a streak of black and the blue eyes faded away to nothing, Rhaegal's body dropping atop of Drogon, not a single twitch coming from the once undead dragon. Theon, bow in hand is all Jon catches sight of before he disappears in the mass of bodies raging war on one another.

He can see the Night King, Robb, standing up from where he'd been perched on Rhaegal's back. He looks calm. As if the fact that he no longer has a dragon on his side means that his victory is still assured, and maybe it is, but then the light seems to slimmer overhead.

Confused, like many of those around him he goes to turn his attention to the sky above, but a howl carries from behind him. He turns in a whirl, taking note of the cheers that are being shouted out and barely has a moment to look before he is diving out of the way.

Ice rains down from above, encasing the line of walkers that had been charging towards him.

"Dragon's!" A voice shouts out from behind him, the man clearly just as in awe as Jon is himself, for the sight that greets them is something Jon thought he would never live to see.

Ice dragons.

They sweep low over the battlefield, twice the size of the dragons Daenerys called her children. Their bodies are made of clear ice, the light making them simmer, and the only real color they contain are the blue eyes which gleam like crystals as they rain down death upon all in their path.

Old Nan's voice seems to whisper the story to him, her voice tender with age, rings out that only a maiden of the North can awaken them from their slumber, and so he turns to see her standing atop the hill, Lady stood at her side, ever faithful.

The battle still rages on around him and he is quickly drawn back into battle. He catches sight of Sansa at one point, a quick glimpse of her red hair, and he immediately knows where she's going. It's as if he can hear her voice calling out but one name.

Robb. Robb. Robb.

And it's then that he knows.

"Ghost!" He roars, slicing through the walker who runs at him.

The white wolf is coated red and brown, the white barely viable under the dirt and blood that coats him. He swings himself up, much like Sansa had done.

Above the dragons call out to each other in high chilled echo's, they seem to know the difference between the dead and the living, and for that Jon is thankful, because already too many good men and women have been lost.

The Night King is easily found in the carnage going on, because he hurls spears of ice at the dragons, yet they seem to take no notice as the spears simply melt and become part of their skin, making them grow in size. The jagged ice coats the ground, rising high into the sky and making it difficult for Jon to get to where he needs to be, but when he finally thinks he's made it time, he watches as the Night King hurdles a spear at Sansa.

Time seems to slow to a halt as he watches the spear impale Sansa, the blood slowly spilling from her lips as her eyes move to meet his.

Before her knees can give way Jon is there, throwing himself off Ghost to catch her, arms curling around her awkwardly due to the large piece of ice jutting out of her torso.

"I, I don't know what to do," he says frantically, eyes searching for someone to help, for anyone to come to their aid.

Her hand, soaked in her own blood reaches up to touch the ice and it melts away, leaving a gaping hole in her chest.

"No, no, no, no," He cries.

"It's," she can't seem to speak, "Okay." she finally breathes with a smile.

"Do something, do anything, just don't die," Jon begs, grasping her hand desperately willing her not to go.

"It's what I want," There a cracking sound behind him, like ice shattering and he looks to the Night King, his blazing pale eyes wide, his mouth open in what seems a silent scream, his body cracking and crumbling. "Forgive me," she gurgles as the blood spills from her lips.

"Don't do this, please,"

Her hand bloodied reaches to wipe his tears, her thumb ghosting over his lips. "I'm sorry."

His grip tightens when her body begins to glow, her hair-raising around her like a halo of fire. She's fading, like a stream of light her body is fading, and then Jon holds nothing but that stupid plan dress that she'd worn.

He feels empty, a hallowed feeling that he thought had faded with Sansa's awakening.

Footsteps in the snow are what alert him that he has been joined by others.

They have won the war, but Jon has lost the one person he had hoped he could save

* * *

The Gods Wood feels strangely empty without Sansa's presence. The war is over, the people of the South leaving Winterfell and the North to return to their own homes. Winter is over and there is much to be done in all seven kingdoms.

Daenerys too has left with her people. She no longer seeks to conquer Westeros, but she will rid the world of Cersei Lannister. She only has Drogon now, he is the child she named after her husband and she will follow him through the skies for no cage shall hold him.

The Northerners are somber in the victory, for they feel the loss of Sansa almost as much as Jon, but they speak her name at every opportunity, wanting those of the South to know who the true hero is, who it was that really won the battle. Sansa is their Hero, and the North remembers and so Sansa shall never be forgotten.

Even the Ice dragons have returned to wherever it is they had come from. Their large forms disappearing after the end of the battle, and none of them had been seen since, not that anyone had been seeking them out.

Ghost brushes his wet nose against Jon's cheek, but Jon ignores him, he came here to be alone.

"The Direwolf is a gift from the Gods, sent to those who have the blood of House Stark." Faster then he thought possible he's back on his feet and turned to face the figure before him.

She's translucent in the moonlight, her body glowing silver, but he'd know her anywhere. A tiara of bronze sits atop her head, red hair flowing longer then Jon had known it to be and she wears a dress fit for one who claimed to be Queen in the North.

Lady, her ever faithfully companion bouched to a stop beside her, glowing a golden color compared to Sansa's silvery glow, but beyond them, stood another figure, a man dressed in battle armor.

So similar were they Jon could have mistaken him for his own brother, except for the head of red curls nestled beneath the bronze crown.

"You never did answer my question?" Sansa said, head tilting to the side.

"I'm a wolf, I'll always be a wolf," He answered.

"I know," Sansa said fondly glancing back to Robb and then her smile seemed to fall from her lips as she turned to look at Jon. "I wanted to say goodbye."

He wants to plead, beg, say the right words to get her to stay, but with her brother waiting, he knows that he can't stand in her way.

When she steps forward to kiss him, he's left breathless, her lips soft, molding against his own seem to breathe life back into his soul. "You gave me back my world, and for that, I shall be entirely grateful," She whispers against his lips, before pulling away. "I also know that your heart is broken and that it was I who broke it, but you are a Stark, and you will heal, and one day, we shall be together again."

"I don't want you to go,"

Sansa smiled sadly, her hand reaching to cup his cheek and he leaned into her touch, wishing this moment to last forever.

"Know this, that although we now take separate paths, that I shall always watch over you, as I shall do for all those who bear the name Stark." She told pulling away, backing away until she reached Robb's side. "Your life is a precious gift, as are those who you share it with, treasure them always." She smiled fondly up at Robb.

Robb smiled, voice soft with tenderness. "Stay,"

Sansa's smile fell, confusion clear across her features. "I don't understand."

Robb smiled, his eyes drifting over to Jon for but a moment before returning to Sansa. "Stay here, with him." Jon watched as the light that surrounded her began to dim, her form slowly becoming solid. "You gave up everything for me,"

"Of course I did, your my brother, I would do anything for you."

"Then let me give you this, let me give you the chance to dream and live and love," She looked to Jon, her expression one of uncertainty.

"Stay,"

* * *

 _ **Once, long ago, before the age of Winter began, my brother and I lived a peaceful life, until the day the South declared war upon our Gods and our people. My brother and I raged war on those that dared call themselves our enemy.**_

 _ **The children of the forest, in a bid to slaughter the enemy once and for all, took my brother, and turned him into a creature which all men feared, all but I. I had sworn an oath to the Gods, that I would take back all that was taken from me, and so I slept, and dreamed, until the day when finally, I took back what should have never been taken from me.**_

* * *

When Jon was still but a boy, he would sneak down to where the frozen Lady slept. She was the image of tranquility and beauty beyond reproach, she was everything that he dreamed the woman he would marry would be, but such things didn't happen to bastards.

He learned the hard way that he was not entitled to all the things his Father's other children were entitled too, for he didn't have the name Stark and without it, he was nothing.

Now, a man nearing his thirtieth name day, Jon wouldn't wish for any other life. He'd found two of his once lost sibling, now cousins, and had returned to the home he had left as a boy. He had found and returned his brother, Robb's, crown and sword to him, and at last, his brother was at peace, but of all things, in his life, it was she who slept that had changed his world.

"I used to come here to speak with her as a boy," Jon said, his eyes roaming the now empty chamber, where once the great winter lady slept. "She was everything I once dreamed of having in my life." He told, eyes sliding over to meet eyes as dark as his own.

"And was she everything you dreamed she would be?" The soft voice asked, wonder making their eyes sparkle in the candlelight.

"She was everything and more," Jon said, hoisting the smaller form up into his arms. "Come now, your mother will surely be wondering where we've got off too."

Eyebrows knitting together, the boy pouted, black curls falling to cover his dark eyes. "You know that she'll be sleeping in the Gods wood."

Jon grinned." Well, they call her the Slumbering Queen for a reason."


End file.
